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#Song: Brick by Boring Brick
to-thelakes · 2 months
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ten songs tag game!!
shuffle your ‘on repeat’ playlist and list the first 10 songs that play, then tag 10 people
i have never been tagged in one of these before so i'm feeling AHHHH (in a good way about it) so thank u @chelseasdagger (love u queen <3, also i have never heard of low roar?? will need to listen asap) but uhm, this is about to be interesting
1. The Black Dog - Taylor Swift
2. Florida!!! - Taylor Swift
3. The Albatross - Taylor Swift
4. girl i've always been - Olivia Rodrigo
5. Feels Like - Gracie Abrams
6. The Smallest Man Who Ever Lived - Taylor Swift
7. BSC - Maisie Peters
8. Not Strong Enough - boygenius
9. HOT TO GO! - Chappell Roan
10. Good Luck, Babe! - Chappell Roan
i don't have many people to tag but i do have @smurfenijsje12 and anyone else who sees this and wants to play!! :)
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if you follow this blog and you don't listen to paramore you should get on that please thank you
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cadenceswishes · 3 months
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♡WHO IS CADENCE'S WISHES?
♡MY ORIGINAL SONGS
♡MY LATEST COVER
☆MY YOUTUBE CHANNEL
☆MY INSTAGRAM
☆MY BLOG
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i try to be loveable like a warm cup of soup (du du ddu du)
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gingerbreadcities · 1 year
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Favourite line: Brick By Boring Brick, Paramore
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horsegirl · 1 year
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what if i said paramore is overrated what then
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wonderbutch · 2 years
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shout out to cassie sandsmark you would love paramore
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satuurnos · 2 years
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every now and then I remember this one video that was like percy jackson characters theme songs and I literally agreed with it sm and now when I try to find it I cant bc ofc its like 8 yrs old so the search is futile but I wish I could watch it just one more timeeee
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epicleseopera · 10 months
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@foxborn || sc.
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❝ if it's not real you can't hold it in your hand, you can't feel it in your heart. ❞
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kitten4sannie · 4 months
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ᴛᴀꜱᴛᴇ ʟɪᴋᴇ ᴠᴇɴᴏᴍ
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ꜰᴇᴀʀ ᴘʟᴀʏ/ꜰʟᴏɢɢɪɴɢ ➠ ʏᴜɴʜᴏ/ʏᴇᴏꜱᴀɴɢ
pairing: enemy emperor! yunho x empress! reader x scribe! yeosang
genre: historical au, smut
summary: you have another tension filled meeting with the stubborn man that wants nothing more than to conquer and own you. your new dedicated scribe records everything.
w.c: 4k
warnings: hard dom! yunho, bratty pillow princess! reader, bricked up witness! yeosang, monster cock alerttt, cnc, light mxm, exhibitionism/voyeurism, name calling/pet names, degradation, dirty talk (this man…he’s so nasty in this i’m not even sorry…), lots of manhandling, spanking/flogging, dacryphilia, half dressed kink idk, spit, hair grabbing, threesome elements, some cucky vibes, a little dash of praise, rough wall sex, creampie, yeosang licks everything up… AHEM, oral (receiving), fingering, cum eating, squirting
a/n: i was extremely high when i wrote this and i am down bad astronomically for yuyu and yeosang so yeah something religious happened to me during the writing process !! i mostly blame it on jackson wang bc that song is sooooo…. rfhhehwh it turns me into a rabid animal ngl anywaysss i hope you enjoy lovelies xx
Now Playing:
ᴄʀᴜᴇʟ ʙʏ ᴊᴀᴄᴋꜱᴏɴ ᴡᴀɴɢ
0:01 ❍─────── 4:28
Volume: ▁▂▃▄▅▆▇ 100%
ᴘʀᴇᴠ | ꜰꜰꜰ ᴍᴀꜱᴛᴇʀʟɪꜱᴛ | ɴᴇxᴛ
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As the empress of your country’s land, it’s always been up to you to partake in the anointed trivialities that required your royal attention. Aside from drawn out, traditional ceremonies to endless horse riding and archery lessons with a seasoned member of the congregation, you spent most of your time having meetings with your supposed suitors, having to listen to their boundless, self-important monologues about their days in battle, coming to know just how much knowledge they held in combat and war strategies, and fighting the urge to pull your hand away when they would hold onto it, pleading you with their eyes for your approval. It all bored you to tears. 
Though, there was a particular individual that you couldn’t seem to keep your mind off of, no matter how hard you tried. Jeong Yunho, an emperor from the land that bordered yours. A man from a bloodline that your family had gone to war with many times over the years. Despite that you were quite literally sleeping with the enemy, you couldn’t help yourself. You had never met anyone like him before. Instead of asking and pleading for your attention, time, and body, he simply took it. Took what he wanted from you without a care in the world. He wasn’t even bothered by that fact that your dear scribe still sat in the meeting room with you, hazily scribbling down everything that occurred and what was said, spilling bottles of ink onto his scrolls due to how flustered he was from witnessing the way Yunho forcefully conquered his dear empress with a domineering smirk plastered on his sweaty face, the panting emperor’s cock routinely disappearing underneath your disheveled ceremony garments and into your willing cunt. 
“Your Highness, Lord Jeong should be here any second now,” your fresh-faced scribe began from across the meeting room, setting up various sized brushes in a line, smoothing out a few creases he found embedded in the elongated sleeves of his ceremony robe. He suddenly looked up at you, concern present within his widened honey brown eyes. “Should I make more tea?” 
“That won’t be necessary, Yeosang, but your intention is very sweet, thank you,” you replied softly, making your way across the room in your heavy garbs, taking the time to run your fingers through your newest scribe’s hair, offering him a smile that made him drop one of his brushes. “Lord Jeong doesn’t drink much tea. He…prefers to get straight to business.” 
Yeosang’s smile dropped slightly when your hand left his hair, his eyes traveling your form as you sat on your knees in front of the meeting table, watching you take a sip from your steaming celadon cup and nod your head in approval of the flavor. “Have you considered his marriage requests? I’ve read some of the letters he’s sent to you…” The young scribe blushed suddenly, his eyes lowering to look at the blank spaces on his scrolls. “They’re quite intense. Does that sort of thing interest you?” 
You rested your chin inside the palm of your hand, your gold bracelets dangling from your wrist, squinting your eyes at Yeosang, your lips curling up ever so slightly. “It does, very much so. Lord Jeong is one of the most interesting men I’ve come across thus far…I’ve greatly considered his offers, despite him being the enemy.” 
Yeosang tilted his head, a few locks of his hair falling into his focused eyes. “If I may ask, your Highness…What’s stopping you from accepting?” 
You ran your finger around the rim of your celadon cup, looking at your reflection within the black tea, your smile fading. “I don’t want the excitement to end, Yeosang.” You looked back up at him, unable to keep yourself from smiling gently at his confused expression. “Marriage, as beautiful as it is, brings monotony, which brings contempt…” 
“Ahh, I see now,” Yeosang nodded slowly, giving you a sad smile back, feeling like he understood his empress a bit more in that moment. He squeezed his fingers around the intricately carved wooden brush inside his grasp.  “Your Highness, may I ask you a question?” 
Just as you were about to respond, the large, jewel-encrusted doors of your meeting room opened with a groan. A tall, handsome man dressed in an extravagant, hand-sewn traditional robe came strolling in like he owned the place, holding an expensive mahogany box within his large hands. 
“Oh, princess, I’ve brought you a present,” Yunho called out teasingly, walking up to the table. He acknowledged Yeosang’s presence with a nod, who bent over to bow. The confident emperor sat down across from you at the table, his eyes hooded, his lips quirked up perversely as if he was reminiscing about your previous meetings. “Hi. Did you miss me?” 
You rolled your eyes, pretending as if you didn’t care about the emperor’s arrival, despite your heart and core throbbing rhythmically from him simply sitting there across from you. “What did you bring me, Yunho?” 
“Something that’ll have your little scribe here pulling at his robes when I’m done using it on you…Maybe he’ll even spill his ink all over himself like your last one…” Yunho’s eyes shifted from Yeosang, who gulped, to you, who simply sipped on your tea, his long fingers rubbing along the smooth edges of the mahogany box. 
You tilted your head to the side, idly biting at the tip of your manicured nail. “Is that so? Well, get on with it. I’m a busy woman, as you know, and I don’t like when my time is being wasted with nonsense.” 
Yunho simply scoffed, shaking his head slightly, sitting there silently for a moment, the only sound in the room being Yeosang’s wet brush expertly sliding across the scroll and your nails tapping against your tea cup. 
All you registered was the sight of Yunho swiftly getting up onto his feet and heading in your direction, his feet thumping against the mat below. Before you even realized what was happening, you were laying face down on the table, watching your tea pool out onto the sleek wood, your intricately crafted tea cup now split in individual pieces. Yunho had you held down by the neck, his fingers closing around it, his warm body pressing against yours, able to feel his stiff cock against your ass, even through your thick robes. 
He chuckled at the gasp you let out, bringing his lips near your ear to purr huskily, “Am I still wasting your time, princess? Or is getting your little cunt all nice and wet for me something worthwhile?” Instead of letting you answer, Yunho simply reached past you, flipping the boxe’s lid open, bringing it closer for you to take a good look at its contents. Inside the box sat a hand-woven flog, the edges of it decorated with a silver finishing, making it glisten in the light. “Do you like your present? I got it made just for you.” He rubbed his cock along your ass, his free hand roaming over your upper thigh to the curve of your ass. “Can’t you see? I’m in love with you…” 
“Oh, please.” As you tried to get up, Yunho pushed his body weight down onto you, holding your wrists down with ease. “Do you really think I’m going to let you use your little toy on me in front of my innocent scribe, Yunho? Who do you think you are?” 
“I’m simply a man who’s head over heels for you, Y/N…Take some responsibility…” Yunho quickly reached past your neck and down to your chest to rip open your garments, tugging on them while you continued to resist until your bare body was revealed underneath the many layers.
Yeosang dipped his brush inside the bottle of ink with a shaky hand, his cheeks flushed, unsure if he should speak up, his eyes fixated on you, never having seen you in such an indecent state before. “Sh-should…I keep going, your Highness?” 
When Yunho forcefully bent you over his knee and pulled your disheveled robe up to reveal your ass, his large hands squeezing into it, you nodded your head weakly at Yeosang, feeling a bit dizzy from being treated in such a way with your lovely dedicated scribe watching on. “Please, don’t let us stop you from doing your job, Yeosang…you’re doing so well…”  
“Thank you, Your Highness…” Yeosang blushed from the praise, dipping his brush back into the ink, before pressing it to the scroll, thankful that his garments were thick enough to cover his stiffening length.
You weren’t able to reply to Yeosang when Yunho abruptly slammed his open palm against the curve of your ass, a moan leaving your lips instead of words. He smacked the other side of your ass to watch it bounce and groped along it, squeezing your sensitive flesh between his slender fingers. “That’s it…just look at that color…Wish you could see it, princess. Shall I add some pretty shades of purple and pink too? You’re my canvas, Y/N…I’m sure you’ll let me paint you with my cum next, right? Just like every time, yeah?” 
“Fuck off, Yunho,” you grumbled, attempting to climb out of his lap, throbbing at the feeling of him grabbing you by the waist and holding you still, knowing you couldn’t get away even if you tried. 
“You weren’t saying that last time, princess. You were begging me for more…” Yunho picked up the flog, running his fingers along the woven leather, before he cracked it in the air, making Yeosang and you jolt from the sudden loud noise, bringing joy to the emperor. “Take a deep breath for me, Y/N…” 
Just as you did so, Yunho brought the flog down onto your ass, watching the individual leather straps leave pretty red marks on your skin, groaning, “So pretty… you’re so pretty for me, princess…” and repeating the motion, lacking the proper self control to stop himself, even when you began to cry, his arm wrapped tightly around your middle. 
“F-fuck…! Stop!” You kicked your legs and thrashed around until you were able to wiggle out of his grasp, just barely making it over to Yeosang’s large scribing table, before Yunho slammed you down onto it, knocking over one of the ink bottles with his rough handling of you. 
“Crying just for me, princess? You’re making me so hard,” Yunho sighed into your ear, moving closer to your face to lick one of your tears away, his hot breath hitting your cheek, your ass stinging more when he grabbed it roughly, bolts of pleasure shooting into your core. 
 “You fucking asshole…” you choked out, about to pull yourself up when the emperor pinned your hands painfully behind your back, feeling his knee press in between your thighs. 
Yunho tugged more of your garments off without a care in the world, huffing and as he shoved his hand in between your thighs from behind, rubbing two fingers along your clothed cunt, before tearing it off with ease. “Ahh, that’s what I thought…You’re so wet for me, Y/N.” He looked to Yeosang, who was blushing wildly, still just sitting there and haphazardly recording the chaos that was occurring right next to him, knowing it wasn’t his place to interact in any way unless either of you allowed him to. Yunho continued to rub at your cunt, enjoying the noises you and your gushing slit were making. “Hey, scribe, make sure you make a note about how fucking soaked your empress gets from getting manhandled by an enemy emperor. That’s an important detail, isn’t it, princess?” 
You struggled underneath the man, starting to feel ink soaking into your expensive garments, some of it staining your cheek. “Yunho, get off of me, or so help me–” You suddenly found yourself gasping for air, having been flogged again, though this time some of the leather straps reached your cunt, feeling it sting pleasurably in between your trembling thighs. 
Yunho looked over to Yeosang, who had his fingers clenched around his brush, his free hand in between his clenching thighs. “Hey, Yeosang, do you know why the previous scribe quit?” When he shook his head, Yunho grinned, admiring the pattern of bruises he left on your ass, running his fingers lightly over them. “He couldn’t handle watching his beloved empress cry and take what I so graciously gave her, but you can, can’t you, Yeosang?” 
He bit his bottom lip, feeling conflicted, not sure if he should nod or not. He instead looked to you, his eyebrows knitted together with concern. “Your Highness…” Yeosang whispered softly, hesitantly placing one hand on top of yours, holding it tightly. 
You looked up at him, smiling gently, blowing a bit of hair out of your hazy eyes, reaching your other hand over to rub the top of his knuckles. “It’s okay, Yeosang…I want this…” 
Yunho grabbed you by the hair, forcefully lifting up your head so that he could get a good look at you, practically drooling at this point, his cock throbbing against your backside. “Say that again…Let me hear it…” 
You turned your head to look at him, smiling sweetly, before you pursed your lips and sent a wad of spit onto his cheek, satisfied with the way it dripped down along his tightening jaw. “If you hurry up and fuck me instead of continuing on with this bullshit, I’ll think about it.” 
Turned on beyond measure, Yunho grabbed your own jaw, forcing it open so that he could send a wad of spit straight down your throat, chuckling darkly at the moan that escaped your parted lips. “This is why you’re my favorite, princess. You’re such a bratty little thing, just aching to be put in your place, huh? You want me to do that? Fuck you into submission in front of your sweet little scribe? Just say the word….” 
This time around, Yunho could see the desperation on your flushed face, your lips forming a pout. “Please…” you whined, surprising yourself and the two men watching you with your sudden act of obedience. 
“Oh my god, that’s fucking it right there…” Yunho groaned, pulling at the sash wrapped securely around his slim waist and pulling it loose, so that he could gain access to his undergarments, quickly tugging his stiff, leaking cock out. “Do you draw portraits too, scribe? This slut’s pretty face should be kept in the history books…” 
Yeosang nervously shook his head, starting to spread the ink across his scroll from watching the way Yunho pushed you up against the wall, so close to Yeosang that his garments spilled into his lap, forcefully wrapping your legs around his waist, just as he fully sheathed himself inside you, your soaked panties pushed to the side.
“No? That’s too bad…Well, at least jot down the fact that I conquer your Highness’s tight little cunt every time I give her a visit…” Yunho huffed out, smiling at you with his canines showing, his hands cemented tightly around your bare waist, bringing himself down to one of your tits to suck it into his open mouth. 
“God, will you just–aaah–shut the fuck up and…nnngh…fuck me properly?” you asked in between pants, barely able to take the emperor’s thick, oversized cock without feeling like you were going to break, your nails digging into his straining upper back through his garments, one side of his robe starting to drape off one of his broad shoulders. 
“Yeah? You want it rough just like every other time, don’t you, whore?” Yunho groaned against your skin, dragging his tongue up over your spit-laced tit to attack your neck with his lips and teeth, leaving your skin in various shades of red and purple. “Write this down too, scribe. The people should know that this pretty princess can’t cum unless she has a horsecock ramming into her cunt. Isn’t that right, Your Highness?”  
You couldn’t even speak at this point, from the way Yunho lifted one leg up onto the scribe table, using the leverage to fuck into you as deep and hard as he could, about to cream yourself from the way he kept you pinned down, just using you like a doll made for his pleasure. 
Now almost directly underneath his empress and the enemy emperor’s rapidly joining bodies, Yeosang couldn’t help but look up, fixated on the way your cunt spread open each time Yunho slammed himself inside your clenching hole, feeling a few drops of your mixed arousal drip down onto his face and roll down his warm cheek. He gingerly opened his mouth and held his tongue out, now pressing his brush directly into the soaked paper, leaning his back against the wall behind him, his hand beginning to rub at his pre-cum soaked cock that was still trapped underneath his heavy garments. 
“God, you’re so fucking wet, princess…I think I might…slip out…” Yunho sighed heavily against your ear, roughly nibbling it with the aid of one of his canine teeth, slowly sliding his cock out of you and slapping his heavy cock against your abdomen, smearing his pre cum onto your skin. 
The feeling of being completely empty just as you were about to cum almost sent you into a full-blown rage, practically ready to start another war with Yunho if he didn’t stick his cock back inside you. You abruptly grabbed him by the hair, clutching a tuft of his damp icy blond locks, leaning in so that your lips ghosted his. “Fuck me, you goddamn bastard. Make me cum.” 
This time Yunho didn’t play any games, simply rubbing his cockhead back and forth over your throbbing clit just to make you shudder against him, before he slipped back inside, immediately pounding himself into you, essentially leaving you breathless. “Look at you just taking it, princess… I know it’s big…You’re doing so well for me…taking it so good, princess…I’m so proud…” 
The sudden bout of praise coming from the enemy in such a sickly sweet tone, especially while he began to pump hot loads of cum into you, sent you barreling over the edge, not doing your dear scribe any favors when you began to babble nonsensically, tears beginning to fall from your eyes from the overwhelming pleasure taking over your body. 
“Yeahhh, take it, princess…I’m gonna knock you up so you have to marry me.” Yunho chuckled darkly, his fingers squeezing into your hips, pressing a rough kiss to your lips, biting at your bottom lip before he pulled away. 
“You’re disgusting,” you huffed, grimacing at him, despite the fact that your thighs were still trembling. 
“Don’t say that, princess,” Yunho whined, leaning his forehead against yours, slowly pulling out inch by inch. “You know how hard that makes me…” He looked down to Yeosang, who was breathing heavily underneath the both of you, his mouth agape, splashes of arousal decorating his pretty, flushed face and damp hair. “Hey, scribe, you’ve been a good boy just sitting here and watching the whole time. You want a taste of your Highness’s used cunt?” 
Feeling sufficiently dizzy, Yeosang looked to you for approval, feeling his cock pulse at your slow dazed nod, bringing his hands up to your thighs to caress them, bringing his lips up to kiss and lick at the wetness around your cunt with a gentleness that would’ve had you collapsing if your legs weren’t securely hooked over Yunho’s shoulders. 
“Make sure you get it all…” Yunho murmured softly, completely pulling out of you with a wet, shlick sound, dribbles of his cum beginning to gush out of your gaping hole, allowing Yeosang to collect it inside his drooling mouth. Yunho brought a free hand to Yeosang’s head, holding him against your cunt, finding great joy in the desperate, sloppy manner in which he ate you out, like a delirious, thirsty man that had just found a hidden oasis. 
It was when Yeosang slipped his slender fingers deep inside your pulsing cunt, his hot mouth closed around your sensitive clit, that you began to whine and whimper, one arm hooked around Yunho’s neck for support, your free hand going down to grab onto Yeosang’s hair when Yunho let go, gazing down to find him already looking up at you with half closed eyes. 
“It’s so good, you’re so good for me, Yeosang, I’m going to…oh my god…”  
Yeosang clutched one side of your bruised ass with one hand, curling three of his fingers inside you and rubbing them against your clenching walls, lapping at your clit, his thighs closing together, his cheeks bright red from the praise. 
All the while, Yunho simply watched on, his chest swelling with pride, occasionally leaving kisses and licks on your straining, marked-up neck. “Cum for him, will you, princess? Won’t you soak his pretty face with your squirt?” 
Having your lovely scribe in between your legs, eating your cunt like it was his assigned job to do so, having your sworn enemy pressing his heated, sweaty body against yours, more filthy words leaving his lips for your shared pleasure was all far too much. “Yeosang…!” 
Yeosang found himself being covered in a warm spray of liquid, tasting your squirt on his tongue, closing his eyes for a moment to bask in the pleasure of it all, opening them back up just in time for you to pull him into your arms, your bare body against his half-dressed one. “Your Highness…” 
“I didn’t mean to do such a dirty thing to you, Yeosang, I’m so sorry…” You used your sleeves to wipe some of the wetness away from his face, blushing more than you had during the whole night. 
“Your Highness…” he repeated, softer this time, giving you a shy smile, pulling his robe apart until you could see what he had done to himself. 
Your eyes widened at the milky stains of cum splattered across the insides of his ceremonial garments, looking back up into his eyes, returning his shy smile. “If I had known you had such an affinity for me, I wouldn’t have looked for suitors this long. Who needs them when I have you?” 
Yeosang reached up to hold his heated cheeks, dumbfounded by the string of events, unable to believe that his beloved empress could feel such a way about him. “It’d be an honor to always be by your side…”
You giggled, reaching up to place a hand over his, your thumb brushing over his pretty birthmark. 
Yunho cleared his throat, running his fingers through his sweaty hair, his robe already wrapped ornately around his body, looking like he did when he first entered the meeting room, besides the afterglow he was now sporting. “I’d love to stay here longer and experience this beautiful moment with you both, but my job here is done.” He patted both of your heads, as if he were a proud father, before heading taking a few elegant strides towards the door. Before he left, he turned back to look at you, his tongue poking into one of his canine teeth, giving you a shit-eating smirk. “Until next time, princess.” 
“There isn’t going to be a next time,” you muttered to yourself, rolling your eyes, your arms still around Yeosang, watching your smug enemy leave the room with a soft chuckle. 
Yeosang chuckled softly, reaching up to run his fingers through your hair, feeling confident enough to share his thoughts with you. “Now, let’s not kid ourselves, Your Highness.” 
“Heyyy,” you whined, giving him a pout, watching him pick up his drying brush up from the table. “Don’t you dare write that down.” When he motioned to dip his brush into the spilled ink, you hugged onto him from the side. “Yeosangggg, I’m still your empress!”
Biting the inside of your cheek, you rested your chin on his shoulder. “By the way, what was that question you wanted to ask me?”
Yeosang gulped, studying the ink-stained table below for a second, before turning his head to look at you, your faces just centimeters away from one another. “Will you replace me one day, Your Highness?”
Your eyes widened slightly, taking in your scribe’s vulnerability, wanting to return the same energy to him, as he was deserving of it. “Never, Yeosang. You’re here to stay.”
Yeosang blushed fervently, dropping the brush back down to hug you into his arms, nuzzling your neck gently, his hair tickling your skin, about to melt inside his empress’s grasp. “Promise?” 
You wrapped your arms tighter around him, pressing your lips to his cheek, waiting for him to look back into your eyes to whisper, “Promise.”
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548 notes · View notes
ladykailitha · 3 months
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Just a little silly thing I thought of watching The Airborne Toxic Event music videos and how it seemed like whenever they needed violin, piano, tambourine...whatever it was always Anna Bulbrook playing.
So what if we steddified it? Steve just picking up whatever instrument Corroded Coffin needs to fill out a song and suddenly he's on tour with them and Eddie still isn't sure how it happened.
****
Eddie was getting frustrated. The band had been working on this song for the last two weeks, but there was still something missing. And he only had mere minutes to finish it before Steve came to pick him up.
Not because they were dating or anything, though...Eddie mentally slapped the side of his head. He was getting off track. Steve was picking him up because his van was in the shop until Friday and Steve had offered to taxi him around.
Like the fucking saint he was.
He screamed his rage, digging the heels of his palms into his eyes. But into the resulting silence, he realized it had become too quiet.
When he looked up he saw Steve standing there with a shocked expression on his face.
"You good there, man?" he asked with a grimace.
"Don't mind him," Brian huffed. "He always gets like this when we're stuck on a song."
"Can I hear it?" Steve asked.
Everyone just looked at each other, not speaking.
Steve rolled his eyes. "Yeah, yeah, not a metalhead, I know. But I am a classically trained musician, maybe I can figure out where it's gone wrong."
"Fine by me," Jeff said with a shrug. "What's it going to hurt?"
Eddie looked up at Steve's earnest face and sighed. "All right, if there are no objections. Let's start it at the top."
And the band played.
"Play it again," Steve muttered.
They looked at each other again, but Eddie just shrugged and they played it again.
Steve nodded. "Okay, I think I've got it. Can I borrow that old keyboard for a sec?"
Gareth looked behind him with a frown. "I mean I guess."
Steve set it up and plug it in. "Brian start on your cue."
The band watched as Brian laid on the base. Steve nodded in time to the music and then began to play a melody on the keyboard. He pointed to Gareth who immediately started banging away.
Eddie came in on vocals and suddenly the song was really coming together.
They practiced it a couple more times, Steve playing the melody line on the keyboard and when they were done all four of the Corroded Coffin boys stared at him in shock.
"Holy shit dude," Jeff said. "What the fuck was that?"
Gareth nodded. "Yeah, man. Eddie hear can play by ear and read music, but that was something else entirely."
"You're going to have to play it with us on Tuesday at the Hideout," Brian said.
Jeff and Gareth agreed. They all turned to Eddie, Steve included.
"I don't know why you're looking at me," Eddie huffed. "I'm down."
Steve just grinned.
****
But then it kept happening. The song was a hit with the Tuesday crowd because of course it was.
They were working on a song and again they were running up against a brick wall. They had already incorporated Steve's piano into it, but it was still missing an extra beat.
They had gotten permission to practice at local college's music room and Steve was getting bored.
He had his part down. There were only a couple of parts were the piano came in so he cast his eyes around the room looking for something mess around with.
His eyes lit up when he spotted his prize. He walked over to the table and picked it up, the clatter of the small metal jingles rattling as he did so.
The band stopped playing and glared at him.
"Don't mind me," he said smugly. "Keep playing."
They went back to starting from the top and as Gareth came in on the drums Steve hit the instrument against the side of his leg in time to the beat.
It stunned Brian so much he missed his cue, his jaw on the floor.
"Stevie..." Eddie said warningly. "What was that?"
Steve grinned. "You said you needed an extra beat. I'm providing the extra beat. Just trust me."
The other band members looked at each other, but did as he suggested.
Sure enough when the chorus came in, and Steve started playing the tambourine, it took everything ounce of professionalism the band had not ground to a complete stop. Then for the verses Steve would play his part on the piano and it just blended so well.
Eddie ran his fingers over his face. "Jesus Christ, Stevie, warn a dude, yeah? You are just sitting over there like a musical genius and it's seriously making the rest of us look bad."
Steve thew back his head and laughed.
"So it's a hit then?"
Everyone groaned.
Jeff shook his head. "Yeah, man. It was a hit."
Steve just grinned.
****
They were recording their first real album in a real studio and while the producers were a little unsure about this weirdo who dressed more like Bruce Springsteen than Kirk Hammett, they had contracted the whole band so they let it slide.
It took Steve two weeks to impress the producers.
Steve had been using the studio off hours (which he did pay them for) to record lullabies on the violin for Robin and Lucas. Violins were the only things that would soothe their anxieties and keep the nightmares at bay.
He had finished his little recording about an hour ago was merely laying down melodies and such that he would play back to see if he liked them.
If only his parents could see him now. Using all that classically trained music to guess Russian code, play lullabies for frightened kids, and preform in a metal band.
Clint Harrington would probably keel over on the spot.
He was so wrapped up in the music, just letting it flow over him that he didn't notice that he had gathered an audience.
He finally stopped and the mic from the sound booth crackled to life startling him.
"Shit, Stevie," Eddie's warm voice said from above him. "Do you think you could play that haunting melody again?"
Steve blushed and then shrugged. "I mean I guess. It was just me playing around. Why?"
"Because everyone in here thinks it's just what Blood-Red Skies needs."
Steve furrowed his brow and then nodded. "Can you pump the track in through the speakers?"
"Yeah," Eddie said breathless. "Just give me a moment to find it."
It was barely a moment or two before Steve's tape was replaced by the recording of the song.
The song was hauntingly beautiful. Eddie only singing vocals as rest of the band played.
It was raw and emotional.
Steve let the song play through before he signaled to play it again.
This time when Eddie begins to sing, Steve begins to play the violin. That beautifully sad sound he had played just to get it out of his head beginning to raise.
"Holy shit!" a new voice came through. It was their producer Kenny Fontaine. "You made that up?"
Steve shrugged. "Sometimes I get music in my head and I need to get out."
"Teach me to play the piano part!" Eddie blurts wrestling the mic away from Kenny. "So that when we play it live you can be on violin and I can sing and play."
Steve grinned. "I'd love that."
I love you.
****
They are playing it on the Tonight Show with Johnny Carson to promote the release of Blood-Red Skies.
The tension between Eddie and Steve is thick that Johnny calls them out on it.
And that's when Steve leaned over and kissed Eddie right on the lips.
Johnny is absolutely freaking out and in a good way.
They spend the rest of the interview tucked into each other's sides like puzzle pieces.
Even later, ten years down the line when Corroded Coffin is selling out stadiums, Eddie and Steve always end the song with a kiss.
****
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ellieswrldd · 1 year
Text
drunk in love
Tumblr media
pairing: modern!ellie williams x reader
summary: when a hot stranger stands up for you at a club and offers to buy you a drink, how could you say no?
content warnings: SMUT 18+ MDNI, public sex (public bathroom), drunk sex (reader is tipsy, ellie is high), strap-on use (r!receiving), fingering (r!receiving), ellie calls the strap her cock, reader is shorter than ellie, brief weed use, alcohol, use of term 'pretty girl' & she/her pronouns on reader, creepy guy hits on reader, brief slut shaming. https://open.spotify.com/track/6jG2YzhxptolDzLHTGLt7S?si=9940e02d8b1743a6
With loud party songs blasting around you and your friends shouting drunkenly in your ears, you could hardly form a coherent thought. It didn’t help that your mind was already a bit hazy from the few drinks you’d downed at the beginning of the night when your best friend Dina had bought you and all your friends several rounds of drinks to celebrate her engagement. That’s why you all were here after all, it was Dina’s bachelorette party, and she had chosen to get wasted at a popular nightclub in your city. 
It was clear that every girl you’d come with was already drunk, making you the soberest one of your friend group, despite being more than buzzed. As they danced wildly on the dance floor, you found yourself in need of fresh air. The club was packed full of sweaty, drunk partygoers, and all the movement and lack of space made it difficult to enjoy yourself. Waving to your friends to let them know where you were headed, you pushed through the throng of people surrounding you until you saw the exit. 
Once outside the building, you took a deep breath and leaned against the scratchy brick wall. The air was cool and brisk against your exposed skin, the consequence of wearing such a revealing outfit. Dina had persuaded you to wear a revealing sequined top with a matching miniskirt that just barely showed the crease where your ass met your thighs. It was impractical, that was certain, but something about dressing so provocatively to go out with your friends boosted your confidence. 
You rubbed at your bare arms as you let out a long sigh. In your peripheral, you saw a tall man approaching you cautiously. Gnawing on your lower lip, you straightened up slightly, glancing around at the other people loitering around the building. 
“Hey there,” His deep voice broke the peaceful silence. You turned to eye him for a moment before looking away. 
“...Can I help you?” You muttered, your voice dripping with annoyance. The man chuckled softly and cleared his throat. 
“I was just wondering if I could buy you a drink or something. You’re like exactly my type, and–” He said as he leaned against the wall. You shifted uncomfortably and glanced up at him. 
“Not interested, sorry.” You cut him off and crossed your arms over your chest. 
“You didn’t even let me finish my sentence!” He laughed sharply as if he was in disbelief that you had rejected him so suddenly. 
“Yeah, ‘cause I’m not interested. Would you just leave me alone now?” The words sounded monotone and bored as they came from your mouth. 
“Listen, I was trying to be nice and give you a good time, but clearly, a bitch like you can’t appreciate a good guy when she comes across one.” He scoffed. “You’re lucky I even offered. You’re dressed like a total slut. Most guys want their women with a little bit of taste.” You spun on your heels to face him, your expression a mix of anger and disbelief. 
“Hey, dickhead, she asked you to leave her alone. Get over yourself and go home.” A woman shouted from behind you. You turned curiously and glanced over at a young woman only a few feet away. 
She was leaning against the wall, joint burning between her lips, her green eyes trained on you. She took a long drag from her joint and exhaled as she let it fall to the cement and put it out with her shoe. With a few long strides, she stood at your side, glaring up at the man without a hint of fear in her eyes. 
He scoffed and looked from her to you. 
“Man, fuck this.” He muttered before turning to walk away. You let out a deep sigh and slowly looked up at the girl. 
Now that she was in front of you, you could fully take in her features. Her short, auburn hair was in a messy mullet style, one that complimented her strong jawline. Her cheeks were speckled with an array of freckles and her face was decorated with a few faded scars; one that split one of her eyebrows, one on her cheekbone, and one on her upper lip. She intrigued you. Your attraction to her was hard to describe, she was different than your usual type, and your meeting was slightly embarrassing, but the way her eyes transfixed on you made you wonder about her. 
“Sorry ‘bout that, I didn’t mean to interfere. He was just being an asshole, and I thought he might try to do something to you.” She muttered, sliding her hands into the pockets of her washed-out jeans. The corner of your mouth twitched upward into an almost smile. 
“I appreciate it,” You stuck out a hand and introduced yourself. 
“Ellie Williams,” She shook your hand and smiled. “I was going to head inside and get myself a drink if you’re interested in joining. I’d love to buy you a drink if you’d let me.” Ellie looked at you with a sly, confident smirk that made your stomach flip. 
You laughed softly and nodded. “I think I’d like that, Ellie.” She bites her bottom lip and opens the door for you before following you inside the club. With Ellie trailing behind you, you approach the bar and push past the people standing around to flag down a bartender. 
Ellie looked at you expectantly, waiting for you to tell her what you wanted to drink. “Just a dirty Martini, thanks.” You chuckled softly as she nodded. Waving to a bartender, Ellie ordered for you and a simple Rum & Coke for herself. 
You snuck a glance at her hands as she took the drinks from the bartender. Her fingers were long and slender, decorated in an array of silver rings. Your eyes trailed upward from her hands to her forearms. Her arms were toned with muscles, her right forearm marked with a dark tattoo that sprawled from her wrist to her elbow. Despite her sleeves being pushed up to her elbows, you could see a few dark lines poking out from underneath, presumably other tattoos that were covered up unintentionally.
Ellie passed you your drink and cleared her throat. “I’m going to sound so cliche, but what brings you here?” She kept her gaze trained on your face as she took a sip from her glass. 
“It’s my friend’s bachelorette! She’s over there–” You pointed to the dance floor, quickly directing Ellie to Dina, who was wearing a white pantsuit and an obnoxiously bejeweled white veil that you had bought her from Party City the day before. “Everyone’s very drunk, but I haven’t had nearly as much to drink as they have.” You laughed as you watched Dina jump into the arms of another friend of yours. 
Your gaze soon returned to Ellie, feeling your cheeks grow hot as you caught her staring at you. “And what about you? Do you always sulk around clubs and save girls from seedy guys?” Ellie let out a choked laugh at your words, setting her drink down on the countertop. 
Ellie leaned in close, her lips gently brushing against your ear as she said, “Just the pretty ones.” 
You giggled and tried to ignore the fluttering in your stomach that her touch had caused. “My knight in shining armor,” The words left you sarcastically. 
The feeling flowing throughout your body slightly confused you; it had been a while since you had successfully hit it off with another woman, let alone one that made you weak in the knees with her gaze alone. 
“In all seriousness though…I sell weed here on occasion. Just happened to be smoking outside when I saw you.” She looked down at the floor briefly, tapping her fingers along the rim of her glass. 
You looked up at her as you bit your lip. “I’m glad you were there, Ellie.” You touch her arm gently as you speak. She smiled softly, and you could’ve sworn you saw the faintest tint of a blush on her cheeks, but then again, the flashing lights made it hard to see. 
As the song playing transitioned into a familiar beat, your eyes widened, and you looked up at Ellie excitedly. “Oh my god! This is one of my favorite songs!” You exclaimed, voice rising so she could hear you. “Ellie, come dance with me!” You proposed with a wide grin, not leaving her with much of an option as you were already tugging her toward the swarm of people on the dance floor. 
Despite her cool exterior, the second you pulled Ellie into the crowd, she was laughing and singing beside you. Still, she was a bit awkward when it came to the dancing, but it’s not like anybody was paying any attention to you two. 
Without saying a word, you grabbed Ellie’s hands and moved them to rest on your hips, spinning around to turn your back to her. Ellie let out a shaky breath, confident you wouldn’t hear it over all the noise. You were pushed up against her, swaying your hips in accordance with the song, gently grinding against Ellie’s hips with every movement. 
It didn’t take long for Ellie to catch onto what you were thinking, her grip on your hips tightening. She gently pressed her lips against your earlobe, her hot breath fanning across the sensitive skin. You leaned your head back against her shoulder, eyes fluttering shut as her lips slowly traveled from your earlobe to your exposed neck. 
It was difficult to tell if the giddiness you were experiencing was caused by the drinks you’d had or if it was Ellie’s touch alone that had your body burning with desire. Either way, you found yourself desperate to feel her body against yours. 
Settling a hand on top of Ellie’s, you craned your head to the side to face her. With your free hand, you gently held the back of her neck and pulled her in for a kiss. Ellie was quick to return the kiss, her slightly chapped lips moving hungrily against yours. She groaned softly as she tasted your sweet lip gloss on her mouth. 
You turned to face her, breathing heavily. “I need you,” The words left you in a needy whisper, but even when the blaring music drowned out your plead, Ellie saw the movement of your pretty lips and knew exactly what you were saying. Three words, three syllables, ‘I need you.’ 
The two of you hurried over to the nearest women’s bathroom, kissing one another needily the minute the door closed behind you. You pulled Ellie into one of the stalls, locking the door with a shaky hand as she pressed your body against it. 
Ellie was anything but shy when it came to touching you. Her hands roamed your body presumptuously, her hands wandering from your hips to your chest all while she kissed you passionately. 
While kissing you, Ellie bit your bottom lip playfully, quickly running her tongue along your lip afterward. As your tongues intertwined and slid against one another, Ellie nudged her leg in between yours, gently rubbing her thigh against your clothed pussy. You let out a muffled moan against her lips as you rubbed your cunt against her leg. 
“Fuck…” She groaned, watching you grind against her helplessly. Ellie could see you were overcome with lust, and so was she. Gently, Ellie tugged down your sequined top, allowing your breasts to spill out for her to see. She kissed along your jaw, her kisses quickly turning from innocent pecks to hungry suckling, leaving purplish-red hickeys in her trail. As her lips traveled across your jawline and neck, those long, slim fingers of hers started to toy with your hardened nipples. Quiet gasps and moans fell from your glossy lips as she pinched and rolled your buds in between her calloused fingers. 
“Ellie…” You whined as you moved your hips against her thigh, desperate for some sort of release. 
She chuckled and pulled away from your neck to look down at you. “So needy…” Ellie mumbled. She unbuttoned her pants and pulled them down just far enough to reveal the strap-on toy she was wearing. It was purple and obscenely large, with a few thick veins detailing the sides of the dildo. You stared down at the toy in surprise, looking back up at Ellie with wide eyes. “Do you always wear that around?” You murmured, glancing down at the strap again. 
“Just when I’m trying to get laid,” Ellie remarked, laughing quietly as she kissed your cheek. You giggled and brought your lips to hers.
“Ellie, there’s no way that thing will fit inside me.” You whispered against her lips as you felt her hands gently moving your skirt up your hips. “I’ll be careful and go slow…don’t worry,” She reassured you. “And if you really want me to stop, just tell me, and I will.” 
You nodded and let her pull the sequined skirt above your hips, revealing the simple black panties you wore underneath. You heard her breath hitch at the sight, and you felt your face grow hot as she glanced from your clothed cunt to your face. Without much of a warning, Ellie placed her hands under your thighs and gently picked you up, pinning you against the stall door and holding you up. 
Gently, Ellie rubbed her middle finger up and down your panties, groaning softly when she felt the wet spot your slick had created. “So fucking wet…” She commented quietly, as she pushed your sheer panties to the side and revealed your pussy. Ellie circled your clit slowly with her thumb, using every bit of self-control to stop herself from whoring you out on her strap right then and there. 
“Please, Ellie,” You moaned and clutched her shoulders tightly. Ellie inhaled sharply and nodded. She carefully slid a finger inside your aching slit, biting her lip as she watched her finger disappear inside of you. You hugged her, burying your face into her neck as your breathy moans and gasps filled her ears.  Soon, Ellie added a second finger as she whispered sweet praise to you. “You’re doing so well, pretty girl…” She said with her lips pressed against your ear. “Jus’ gotta get you ready for my cock,” Her teeth sunk into your earlobe just enough to get you to whimper loudly.  “I’m ready, please– I need it,” You begged her, eyes glossy with tears of sexual frustration. Surely part of your neediness was because of the alcohol, but you couldn’t deny that everything about Ellie made you feel excited. In all honesty, you couldn’t remember the last time you were so desperate to hook up with someone, let alone in the bathroom of a busy club. 
Ellie chuckled softly and kissed your cheek. “Okay, but tell me if you want to stop, alright?” You whined softly as she pulled her fingers out and gently rubbed the strap along your dripping entrance. Slowly, she pushed the tip past your slick folds and into your cunt, earning a deep moan from your lips. 
“Oh my god, Ellie,” You squeezed your eyes shut while she continued to push further inside you. “It’s so big…” You cried. 
“I know, but you can take it, pretty girl…I know you can…” Ellie cooed, her fingers digging into the exposed skin of your thighs. 
The slow pace she was moving at was practically torturous, but when she finally slid the full length of the strap into you, you knew the wait had been worth it. Ellie began to thrust into you, cautiously at first, as if she was scared to hurt you, but when she saw how much of a mess you were already, she couldn’t help but pound into you relentlessly. 
It took every ounce of your strength to refrain from screaming and moaning her name; the two of you were fucking in a public space after all. So, with a hand covering your mouth, you let out choked, muffled moans with every jerk of Ellie’s hips. It didn’t take long for Ellie to find that spot deep inside of you that almost made you scream when she hit it with the tip of her strap. 
Your eyes were watering and glossy, hot tears threatening to spill down your face. A small smile spread across your face as you felt your walls tightening and your orgasm building up inside of you. It appeared that Ellie could see how close you were as her pace sped up and fucked into you without remorse. 
You opened your mouth to tell her how good it felt when you both heard the bathroom door slam open and bang against the wall. Ellie froze, eyes wide as the two of you listened to a group of girls file into the bathroom. They talked loudly, shrill laughter echoing throughout the room as they conversed. After a few moments, most of the group had left, but you could still hear a couple of girls talking. 
“God, this fucking pantsuit is so itchy…” Your eyes widened as you realized one of the girls talking was Dina. 
“At least you’re not wearing a miniskirt! This thing keeps riding up,” Another one of your friends responded. Ellie looked down at you, slightly confused as to why you seemed so shocked.
“Those are my friends!” You whispered to Ellie. Her eyebrows raised slightly before a mischievous grin began to form on her face. 
“Hey, have any of you seen y/n?” Dina asked. 
“Not since she stepped out for air– maybe we should look for her.” Ellie bit her lip and slowly thrust her hips upward, causing your eyes to roll back and a wrangled gasp to escape you. 
“Y/n, you in here?” One of the girls called out. Ellie looked down at you, her eyes dark and full of lust. She shook her head, silently telling you to keep quiet. Ellie placed a hand over your mouth and paused for a moment to readjust herself before thrusting into you once again. She plunged into you rigorously, smirking as hot tears began to fall down your cheeks. 
“Guess not. Let’s go see if she’s outside,” Dina suggested. In just a minute, the girls had filed out of the bathroom, leaving you and Ellie alone once again. 
“Almost got us caught, couldn’t keep quiet, could you? Huh?” Ellie mumbled once the door slammed shut. 
“F-Feels so good,” You sobbed as your walls clenched tightly around the strap. Ellie pulled your body as close to hers as she could and kissed you. It was a messy kiss, saliva trickling from your lips as you pulled away to cry out something incoherent. Ellie groaned softly as she felt the base of the strap grind against her puffy clit with every deep thrust inside of you. 
Ellie felt like she was going insane as she watched you take her strap. Your makeup was smudged and running down your face with your tears, your breasts bounced with every move of Ellie’s hips, and your lips were shiny with drool. You looked so fucked out, so pretty, and you hadn’t even cum yet. The scene in front of Ellie was pornographic, and she couldn’t get enough of it. The way you cried her name every time she hit that spot deep inside you made her want to make you hers right then and there, but she knew better than to ruin the mood with her nonsense. Better to save it for later after taking you on a date, something romantic like that. 
“God, you should see yourself right now, lookin’ so pretty while you take my cock…” Ellie moaned softly before she nuzzled her face in your neck. 
“Ellie- I’m gonna cum!” You gasped as your legs began to shake. Her fingers moved against your clit quickly while she continued to thrust at the same relentless pace. 
“Oh yeah? Gonna cum all over my fucking strap?” She muttered teasingly. You let out a choked sob and nodded. Ellie grinned and kissed your neck softly. “I know you are, pretty girl.” She breathed heavily against your sensitive skin. Based on the sounds she was making as her hips stuttered, you guessed she was on the brink of an orgasm. You were proud to see it– you wanted to see her cum just as badly.
Quickly after Ellie spoke, you felt the tension in your stomach unravel. Your orgasm came over you like a tsunami, your vision going white with pleasure. Ellie’s thrusts turned sloppy as she too began to climax, small moans and whimpers escaping her. The base of the strap was rubbing against her clit so perfectly that it was hard for her to focus on anything else. Pleasure coursed through every part of your body as you cried out and spasmed in Ellie’s arms, her incoherent mumbles of praise reassuring you.
Slowly, you both regained your composure after your orgasms had fizzled out. Ellie gently pulled the strap out and helped you stand, resting a hand on your lower back as she did so. You adjusted your panties and skirt before tugging your top back up. Ellie’s hands traced the hem of your skirt as she pulled you in for a sweet kiss. 
“For what it’s worth, I think that skirt looks stunning on you.” She whispered, a dazed smile on her face. You giggled and snaked your arms around her waist. 
“Not too slutty?” Ellie shook her head and gently wiped your runny makeup off your cheeks. 
“Not at all– I think it’s very tasteful.” She kissed you, her hand gently squeezing your hip. 
“I like you, Williams.” You murmured as her lips left yours. She chuckled softly and looked down at you.
“Well, I like you too.” Ellie ran a calloused thumb over your cheekbone. “Can I take you out on a date? I’ll make it worth your while…” You giggled and nodded. She kissed your cheek and jaw a few times, her lips curling into a giddy smile. 
“I’d like that,” You bit your lip in an attempt to hide the stupidly large grin on your face. Taking her hand and intertwining your fingers, you stood on the tips of your toes and gave her a long, caring kiss. “Why don’t we get out of this bathroom? My friends are looking for me, and I don’t want to worry them too much.” 
Ellie nodded and squeezed your hand reassuringly. “Let’s go. I’m dying to dance with you again anyways.” Her voice teasing but still genuine. 
You reunited with Dina at the bar, Ellie trailing close behind you. Dina glanced at Ellie and back at you with a curious expression. 
“Ellie, would you give us a minute?” You asked her sweetly. She nodded and walked away, muttering something about grabbing some water.  “Who is that?” Dina asked, watching intensely as Ellie walked away. 
“It’s a long story–” Dina’s sharp laugh interrupted you. 
“You fucked her, didn’t you! You dirty dog!” She gasped dramatically, and you both broke out into laughter. 
“How can you tell?”
“You have hickeys all over you, and your makeup is smudged– I’d be stupid if I didn’t notice,” Dina stated and crossed her arms over her chest. 
You giggled and shrugged. “I’ll tell you about it tomorrow when you’re sober.” Dina grinned and nodded. 
“Well, go and get her! She can come party with us!” Dina exclaimed and waved Ellie over. Ellie was quick to join you two, her arm sliding around your waist as she stood beside you. 
“Dance with me?” You asked as you looked up to meet her gaze.
“Always,” She chuckled. 
。・:*:・゚★,。・:*:・゚☆
a/n: this was literally supposed to be a quick lil drabble but here i am with 4k words...im proud of this tho <33
2K notes · View notes
randombush3 · 3 months
Text
too sweet
alexia putellas x reader
it's based on the hozier song and i just got bored during my break
icl this might not make sense x
[...]
You aren’t sure how you ended up here. 
There was a path, there was a brick lane painted yellow and filled with singing and dancing, and, what? Did you spiral off it? Were you the hurricane, were you the destroyer? 
Maybe you are The Destroyed. 
It’s too late to think about it. 
Not because you are past repair, but because it really is late – later than usual. 
The door has been locked twice, meaning Alexia has given in and gone to bed. “Fuck,” you swear as your keys clatter to the floor, typical for you to be the one to break the peaceful silence. A rustle comes from the bedroom; a sigh, a muffled sob. “Ale?”
And it’s instinctive, the way you run to her. Once upon a time, that was all you ever did, back when you played, back when the path was good and smooth and clear.
Alexia doesn’t want to see you. She hates the smell of whiskey, she hates the gruffness of your voice. There comes a point where a person can no longer bear it. No matter how much love she wraps around you, weaving the thinning strings together to form a rope and begging you to let her pull you up from this, there comes a point where Alexia, perhaps blinded too much by her love, is destroying herself just so that you don’t go down alone. 
She’s tired. 
When you arrive at the bedroom door, she has turned over, the duvet slightly too cold and the bed slightly too empty. “Ale, are you awake?” you ask, drunken foolishness clouding your sense as the lump under the covers does not respond, does not feel she can. “Baby?” 
The bed doesn’t look inviting, and you feel unwelcome. 
You roll your shoulders back. 
“Alexia, don’t pretend.” 
The silence is haunting and you try to escape it as soon as possible, letting out a viscous laugh, directing it towards her back. The noise slashes welts in her skin, your tongue a whip, you her mistress and she, your slave. Alexia closes her eyes.
An alarm rings through the apartment. The sun is not quite up, so it would be dark if you hadn’t been staring at the soft glow of the lamp beside the TV for the past hour. 
The screen isn’t on. 
You don’t quite feel escaping this life just yet. 
“Bon dia.” Soft feet pad into the kitchen, face washed, training kit pulled on. Her nose wrinkles as the bitterness of coffee hurtles towards her, and she doesn’t make an effort to conceal her frown at the empty bottle of whiskey on the floor beside you. “Are you planning to get some rest?” 
“Are you making coffee?”
“I read a study that says it negatively affects performance.” 
“Are you making me a coffee?” you amend with a smirk, sitting up and staring her down. Through the redness of your eyes shines what first attracted her to you, the devilish spark, the clearly set out intention of doing something stupid. 
She watches you haul yourself up, staggering towards her. Your hands are cold and clammy, but their grip on her waist feels just as good as it always does. She leans back into you. 
“The sun’s not up yet but Alexia Putellas is ready to train,” you murmur into her ear, kissing the skin of her neck as though to soothe where the dig must have sliced her. “No journalist tracks your morning routine, baby. You could’ve stayed in bed a bit longer, let yourself wake up later. Don’t you ever wanna?” 
Her body relaxes, choosing to hear your voice but not what you are saying. She lets herself fall into the pit you rot in; your most frequent visitor. “I am drunk on life,” she replies with a forgiving smile. 
You step back, Alexia stumbling with you, having been leaning on your body. 
“I’m not drunk.” It is far from a new lie. “Have fun at training,” you grit out. She sees the back of you as you lurch towards the bedroom door. Her tears try to fall, but she wipes her face with her knuckles and collects herself before she heads out into the real world. Her home feels like a dungeon, but one that is not meant for her. 
The girls undergo the usual ritual of asking after you. Your retirement was forced, but they all saw it coming. 
You were not sculpted from the same heroic marble, withstanding heat and terror. Nothing about you fit into training regimes and early mornings, sweetened energy drinks on promotion, discipline and determination. You got by on talent, rough and raw, and listening to your beloved prison warden on occasion. 
If Alexia is the Greek hero, you were, perhaps, the weapon she used. Deadly, yes. Sought-after. But, if dropped, clattering towards the ground lifelessly. 
She crouches down to pick you up, but your metal burns so hot that she is not sure she can touch you. 
When Alexia comes home, you are asleep. She opens the windows, self-consciously airing out the stench of alcohol before a few of her teammates come over for dinner, and she cleans the stickiness from the worktops. She lights a candle. She wishes it were an altar, a conduit to her saviour, and she prays, for a moment, that this will end soon. 
When she opens her eyes, she realises the only saviour she has been thinking of has been you. 
She crawls into the bed beside you. 
You stir at the feeling of fingers combing through your hair. 
Alexia is as bright as the morning sun, blazing above Barcelona. She is untouchable. 
The distance that has grown between you has grown because she is the zenith and you are the nadir. It is just too far to overcome. 
You are real. You suffer, you cry, you poison yourself and enjoy it. You like how you live, you like how free you are. 
Alexia’s gentle rousing – but rousing, nonetheless – sends you tumbling past your limit. 
This is not how she wants you to be, but you cannot be something you are not. 
“You’re too sweet for me.” 
She hears the rejection, but she shakes her head. 
“No, no,” she whispers desperately, pleading for it to not mean what it does, begging you to swallow it back inside. “No, I’m not. Remember?” 
She means her ACL, she means the venomous arguments and the early days where you’d watch her carefully as she inhaled your second-hand smoke. She means now, where she lets you live the way you do because she understands how life works and she gets it, she does, and she really only just wants you to be happy. 
You blink slowly. “Ale.” 
“No, I’m… I’m just still playing! I have to take my career seriously, but, but, the off-season! You know how I am in the off-season?” 
“Baby, you don’t give yourself an off-season.” 
“I can!” she vows. “I can, and we’ll go on holiday with the girls, and we’ll wake up dark as lakes and you can make me smell like a fucking bonfire, if you’d like.” 
“Ale…” 
“Please,” she asks. 
You wish you could go along with the farce. In all honesty, you’re a bit surprised that is has lasted up to now. 
You cannot do this anymore. Maybe one day, when she is done playing and training and conforming to the intense regimes the club upholds them to, you will come back to her. Maybe one day, she will have sat in the barrel long enough to have soured, bitter, now, and much more palatable. 
But you are certain about the present, about the woman lying beside you with tears running down her cheeks. You decide that if you were to taste the liquid, what is supposed to be salty would be sweet, and, with that, you have convinced yourself. 
“Alexia, baby, you’re too sweet for me.” 
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wynnyfryd · 8 months
Text
Trailer park Steve AU part 8
part 1 | part 7 | ao3
He finds himself on Cherry Drive by muscle memory alone. Quarter mile past Maple Street, take the third left, the second right; drive straight through the next stop sign and suddenly the Hagan house is coming into view around the bend, bathed in dim yellow light from a flickering street lamp. A 50s era ranch house, painted brick with a detached one-car garage, weeds sprouting through the crooked old stones of the front walkway and leaves scattered across the lawn in mushy browns and orange-reds.
It's not as nice as Steve's place is.
Was.
Whatever.
Steve blinks, shakes himself fully awake; feels a jolt of fear at the idea that he just drove here in some kind of fugue state because he doesn't know what he's doing here. Tommy left for college, and fuck Tommy, anyway.
He pulls up to the house. Slows the car to a crawl.
It's dark inside, all the lights turned off except for a single table lamp in the entryway window; shaped like a sea turtle, its belly full of blue-green light. Mrs. H. loves the sea.
He wonders if they're out of town or if they're just asleep.
The Hagans go to bed early, he remembers. He spent so many nights talking in a hush in Tommy's room; 8:45pm and they'd be lying side by side on the floor beside his bed, reading comic books or sports mags and whispering about nothing. Tommy'd always thank Steve for coming over because he knew his house was a little boring; he was the kid with old parents who went to bed early and kept the radio turned down and wouldn't let them have sugary snacks even on the weekends. Steve would always just knock their shoulders together and smile 'don't mention it' because he'd hang out with Tommy anywhere.
"Anywhere?" "Yeah, anywhere." "What about in a cave?" "Sure." "Under a bridge?" "Don't see why not." "In the belly of a whale?" "Now you're just being dumb." "Am not!" "Are, too." "Oh, yeah? Well- shut up!"
That was usually the part where they got in trouble for making noise, caught red-faced and laughing while they wrestled on the floor.
There's warmth in his chest at the memory, and that part, he expects.
But also...
Something about it makes heat flare in his gut, shameful and feverish as it flashes through his mind: the phantom press of Tommy above him as he pinned his shoulders down; the way the flush on his cheeks made Tommy's freckles pop; the breathless smile he gave, so close their noses almost brushed...
A light turns turns on in the Hagans' hall.
Steve hits the gas.
He drives for a long while, feeling like an asshole for burning through their precious gas money, but too— too something to fully care. He's alone on a highway with dark pastures blowing by, with the heat on and windows down, and he's circling back toward home when Bruce Springsteen starts to play, all croaky static over the spotty radio.
Born down in a dead man's town. The first kick I took was when I hit the ground.
Steve cranks it up and sings along. The song is cheesy, and he feels stupid, but he also feels free. Like there was a shackle around his throat and he didn't notice until it was gone. He shouts along to the chorus and then just shouts in general; long, guttural screams that feel like poison being purged. Tommy, his dad, the Russians, his mom. All of it, all of it spewing out of him into the cold night air.
He misses Carol suddenly. Her acidic attitude. The way it always ate through the worst of his sullen moods.
He can picture her now: perched on someone's lap in the crowded backseat, no seatbelt, manicured hand braced on the ceiling. She'd be smacking bubblegum and twirling a lock of her hair, and she'd roll her eyes at Steve's dramatics and ask whether he was done untwisting his panties yet. Steve would say something dumb and pervy in response, like, "Too busy dealing with girls' panties to focus on my own," and she'd roll her eyes harder and go, "God, you're fucking gross."
Carol's not here, though, so he just screams about her, too.
When he get back to Forest Hills his voice is hoarse. His body is tired; his soul is light. He's thinking, like: maybe he'll be okay. He'll channel his inner Claudia or Joyce and soldier on. Resilience, and all that shit.
He's almost smiling to himself when he turns into the park.
And then he sees the flashing lights.
There's an ambulance on his lot.
part 9
just gonna start tagging whoever commented the day before (if your settings will let me) bc i have the memory of a goldfish @a-little-unsteddie @slowandsteddie @pennyplainknits @thesuninyaface @hotluncheddie @messrs-weasley @pitrsattabhaadmeinjao @eddie-munsons-missing-nipple @blackpanzy @disrespectedgoatman @i-have-three-feelings @sirsnacksalot @estrellami-1 @manda-panda-monium
913 notes · View notes
chelseeebe · 8 months
Text
promise.
eddie knows about covering bruises and pretending to be fine all too well. but can he save the one woman he thinks he’s ever loved?
a/n: ok i’ve been a bit shit the last few weeks and this is genuinely the only thing i could conjure up but forewarning, it is sad and it does mention some pretty heavy topics that i know aren’t for everyone so i completely understand if u don’t want to read! my adhd riddled brain has already started a part two which does have a happy ending
title based on promise - ben howard i just thought it was a really lovely song and fits well with part two
read part two here.
18+. mdni! mentions of domestic violence, not explicitly described but the injuries are there and it is referred to multiple times throughout (eddie is not the perpetrator). smut. v much hurt/no comfort but not for long.
⋆˙⟡♡⟡⋆˙
eddie is positively wrecked.
who would have ever guessed working in a shoddy, run-down bar would be so fucking tiring?
graham had said that if he picked up a few shifts at the hideout a week, then corroded coffin could play once a month. a guaranteed slot and he got paid? this was like heaven to him.
he just hadn’t expected the little bar to be so exhausting. he supposes that his lack of work experience and the fact he was used to doing sweet fuck all most of the time was to blame. that’s not his fault. not really. after finally graduating high school a year or so ago, he just hadn’t found any work in the tiny town.
on one particularly boring mid-week shift, eddie’s sat behind the bar doodling on the back of an old receipt, tapping his foot along to the kiss tune playing on the stereo. wouldn’t be his first choice but he’s not complaining.
‘you coming for a smoke?’ you exclaim suddenly, causing his head to jolt up, running the biro over his shitty drawing, ruining it completely.
‘uh.. then who would be on the bar?’ he utters, quickly hiding the doodle before you could judge it. not that he thinks you would, but just in case.
‘eddie, it’s dead,’ you say flatly, looking around at the empty tables.
truth be told, he hadn’t seen another soul bar from you and graham since he’d arrived which was odd for a thursday. assuming that the usual bums that lined the dusty old stools were otherwise engaged today. that or they just hadn’t been paid yet.
‘oh.. yeah, okay,’ he nods, hopping down from the stool and grabbing his jacket. you’re already gone, bounding off down the hall to the fire exit you all used for smoke breaks.
eddie’s still fairly new and very rarely got invited on the group breaks. which was fine, he just wished that you’d all take it in turns so that he could smoke too. he gets it though, like he talks enough but yet not enough to really make friends with any of you.
you’re leaning back against the brick wall, cigarette hanging from your lips, ‘you got a lighter?’
it’s not like he’d been staring or thought about it that much, but he’d noticed how breathtakingly beautiful you were on his second shift. okay, maybe that’s a lie. he’d thought about it a lot. but anyway, he’d been utterly in awe at the way you handled the drunks, brushed off their creepy comments and stood your ground no matter how angry or persistent they were being. he admired that and just wished that he had even a smidgen of the confidence you had.
he fumbles in his pocket for the lighter, clumsily handing it over before getting his own pack out. it feels wrong to look you in the eye, god that sounded pathetic. you were older, far cooler than he was and positively stunning. if he remembers correctly, you must’ve been a couple grades above him at school but had left long before he graduated.
‘thanks,’ passing the lighter back to him, fingers ever so slightly brushing against his. it’s like electricity sparks through his veins.
he really needs to get a grip.
‘you enjoyin’ it here?’ you ask, eyes intimidating as they bore into his.
‘it’s okay.. tiring though,’ he shrugs, trying his hardest to maintain eye contact despite his inability to look pretty girls in the eye.
‘yeah.. you’ll get used to it,’ you chuckle, the smoke flowing out of your lips perfectly. he’s so pathetically down bad for you and you have literally no idea.
‘how long have you worked here?’ longing to keep the conversation flowing.
‘shit.. too long,’ chuckling as you take another drag. eddie could listen to that sound all day. ‘i think i was eighteen when i started so..’ pretending to count on your fingers, ‘six years?’
eddie blows the air out of cheeks, he’s probably be in a similar position if he’d have just graduated when he was supposed to so he can’t exactly pass judgement.
‘i think we went to school together, i mean, you were a couple grades above me but i remember you,’ hoping that that didn’t sound as creepy out loud like it did in his head.
‘oh shit, really?’ your eyes narrow, trying to place him though it’s obviously not going to happen, ‘i don’t remember you.. i’m so sorry,’ playfully hitting his arm.
the connection is enough to keep his delusions going for at least another month.
‘it’s fine, didn’t think you would,’ not many people did to be honest. he tosses his cigarette into the overflowing makeshift ashtray, waiting for you to lead the way back inside.
‘hey, it was a long time ago, i’m old now!’ you joke, walking back through the dim hall back to the bar. he tries his hardest not to let his gaze slip to you ass but he swears it’s only for a second.
the bar’s still dead, the stereo now blaring out some madonna tune he hated.
‘ugh.. turn this one off,’ he mutters, mostly to himself as he repositions himself back on his perch.
‘what?’
‘i hate this song.’
your jaw drops in faux-offence, ‘i made this mixtape you asshole,’ going to shove him off of the stool, ‘i can’t believe you can’t drop the cool guy act for one second to appreciate some madonna,’ laughing as you start collecting glasses.
his frown turns into an immediate grin, begging for your forgiveness as he starts to bop his head along to the beat. it’s not like anyone would see him and hell, even if they did, he didn’t care. not if it made you smile.
-
‘holy fuck, you been fightin’ with the door again?’ james remarks, pulling eddie’s eyes from his paper to spot you rushing into the bar.
your head is ducked, flashing the older man your middle finger, disappearing into the back before eddie can properly get a glimpse of your face.
but he knows.
there’d been a handful of times that you’d come in wearing a massive sweater instead of your usual low-cut tops and when you reached for something high up, the sleeve would reveal just enough for him to see the dark blue marks on your wrist.
he’d never been sure, not until now. but his stomach drops the second his brain puts two and two together.
ditching the paper and that asshole james behind the bar to slink off into the back, approaching the tiny staff room with the upmost caution. it’d never be wise to start throwing accusations around but he’s not stupid. eddie had watching his mom go through the exact same shit for years. knew all the tricks in the book to cover up bruises, cried his heart out every time his mom went back to his asshole dad.
only god knows how many times he’d planned out his fathers death. anger brimming in his tiny body the second he heard raised voices.
he knocks gently on the door, watching as you hurriedly wipe the makeup onto your eye. it’s not doing much, in fact, it’s not doing anything at all. the purple shining through undeniably.
‘you okay?’ practically whispering as he enters the room, knocking the door shut behind him. james’ comment had meant that this obviously wasn’t the first time you’d come into work with such horrid markings.
you sigh, giving up on attempting to cover it, slamming the metallic compact back into your locker. ‘i’m okay.. i’m fine,’ refusing to turn and face him.
you’re obviously not okay and it hurts eddie to know that there’s absolutely nothing he can do to help. instead, he takes a seat on the communal bench, if nothing else, he’d lend his ear for whatever story you wanted to tell him.
‘what happened?’ he dares to ask, not expecting to know the truth but it felt better than silence.
you sniff, closing your locker and finally facing him head on. there’s pain and guilt wracked all over your face, ‘i’m just.. clumsy,’ shoulders slumping, ‘i tripped..’
‘clumsy?’
you were anything but. eddie had watched you balance trays full of glasses without spilling a single drop. maybe other people bought your story but he didn’t. he couldn’t.
there’s a short silence and eddie shuffles, patting the empty space beside him, ‘you don’t have to lie to me.’ he swallows his anger, lets it rest in his stomach for a later date. there’s no doubt that if he got the opportunity, he’d kill the asshole that did this to you.
you swallow, reluctantly perching on the bench, ‘why are you even asking when you already know?’ not quite meeting his eyes, staring off somewhere into the distance.
‘i don’t know.. didn’t wanna pressure you..’ he’s familiar with the whole routine. the denial from his mother had broken his heart at such a young age even though he wasn’t stupid.
you blink, meeting his eyes for the first time, ‘he didn’t mean to.. was my fault,’ wiping the back of your hand against your sodden cheeks.
even hearing the words makes him inexplicably frustrated. not with you of course, but with the fact that you can’t see how much you don’t deserve that.
‘i don’t think you could do anything to deserve that,’ motioning towards your blackened eye. he’s not going to push it but he needs you to know that he’s here and would quite happily wrap his hands around that bastards neck.
‘you know.. my dad used to hit my mom,’ swallowing the large lump that had gathered in his throat, but finds enough strength to continue, ‘she was the nicest lady in the world.. she didn’t deserve that and neither do you,’ licking his suddenly parched lips. it wasn’t an easy topic then and it certainly isn’t now.
he’s not particularly ever open about what happened to his mom but if it convinced you even a tiny bit to leave him, it’d be worth it.
there’s a beat, followed by a muffled sniff but you’re nodding, staring down at the grimy tiles rather than his face. eddie reckons that he’d be overstepping his mark if he did what he wanted and leant over to hug you. so he doesn’t. putting a sympathetic hand on your shoulder instead.
‘you’re an angel, you know that?’ the hints of a smile creeping onto your lips.
‘yeah i know,’ he scoffs, bashing his shoulder into yours, only gently.
‘shut up,’ knocking him straight back.
you get up from the bench, puffing your cheeks out as you take one last look into the mirror.
it’s a gut-wrenching, awful sight and god forbid eddie has to ever see you like that again.
-
perhaps rather naively, eddie assumes everything is fine for the next few weeks.
understandably, you’re a bit subdued for a few days but you do revert back to your usual bubbly self come friday evening. no more bruises, no more groaning when you change the keg and absolutely zero mention of your wretched boyfriend.
so when he pulls into his gravel driveway one gloomy saturday night, he’s aghast to see you perched on his trailer steps. blinking through his headlights, soaked through from the rain with a busted lip and a torn shirt to match.
he near enough launches himself from his van, rushing over to your hunched over frame. damn near falling over his feet to get to you.
‘what the hell happened?’
you stand, clinging onto your poorly packed rucksack, ‘i.. i didn’t know where else to go,’ utterly defeated, any traces of life drained from your face.
he doesn’t say another word, bundling you into the trailer, slamming the lights on to get a proper look of you. his hands firmly on your drenched shoulders as he examines your injuries. your lip is cracked, the blood had wept from the cut and dried on your chin.
it’s awful. knocks him sick just to see you like this. your cheeks are stained with a mixture of rain and he presumes tears, hair hanging limp around your beautiful face.
‘what happened?’ he says softly, studying your face. he notices the small gash on your forehead, using everything within himself not to storm out of that door in a murderous rage.
your mouth opens but no words come out. it’s not as if he can’t put two and two together, he just doesn’t understand how it got to this point after last week.
‘it’s okay.. c’mon let’s get you out of these clothes,’ he blinks, collecting himself before taking your sopping wet bag. the clothes had all suffered in the downpour, damp and unwearable.
so he leads you into his cramped room, hastily rummaging through his drawers for something you can wear.
it’s a little self-indulgent and completely the wrong time but his heart flutters when you reappear out of the bathroom sporting his tee and a pair of old gym shorts. now showered and without the blood stains on your face, it’s a welcome sight.
‘better?’ he offers, though he knows a shower could never really help.
you nod, pulling the sleeves down over your hands. it’s so adorable and eddie seriously has to fight his compulsion to just pull you into his arms. he knows there’s no way he can protect you from everything but he’d be damned if he wasn’t going to try.
‘you want a drink? beer?’
your eyes light up, a minuscule smirk appearing on your battered lips. he’s sure wayne would understand why he came home to a non-existent six pack. the berating would be worth it to see you smile again.
he collapses onto the couch next to you, beer in hand as he watches you slowly relax. delighted that he could offer a safe space for you, even if it did come with some very complicated feelings.
that night, admittedly very creepily, he watches as you sleep. terrified to fall asleep in his makeshift bed on the floor in case you needed him.
-
at some point in the last two weeks, eddie had gone from sleeping on the floor to sleeping in his bed next to you. you’d told him it was far too cold for him on the floor and he should just get in. which he did, with great pleasure. there was nothing to it of course, but a few times he’d woken up to your leg entangled with his or your face pressed against his back.
everything had just got a whole lot more comfortable. rides to work, cooking for one another and some shared looks that he’d been unable to put his finger on. not wanting to believe they had any deeper meaning but at the same time, he knew that that wasn’t how friends looked at each other.
it’s a rare night you both have off, sat in the trailer watching halloween, neither of you really interested in what’s going on on the screen. there’s an inexplicable tension in the air tonight, you’re quieter than usual which eddie doesn’t like.
‘you okay?’ he dares to ask. he’d felt a little overbearing those first few days, constantly checking on you to make sure you were okay.
‘hmm? oh, i’m okay,’ setting your bottle of beer on the table, ending up much closer to him when you sit back.
‘you sure? you’re quiet,’ keen not to let on that he was absolutely buzzing about your close proximity.
‘just thinking.’
‘about?’
you let out a soft breath, twisting around to look at him fully. the only times he’d been this close to you were in bed where he laid and listened to your soft snores and when you’d been covered in injuries. neither one were exceptionally great circumstances.
‘you,’ you blink up at him, smiling just enough to make his heart skip a beat.
‘me?’ he can’t decipher whether that’s a good thing or not.
‘mhm.’
‘what about me?’
you don’t respond for what feels like an eternity but your gaze lowers, glancing at his lips and back to his eyes. if he weren’t staring directly into your bright eyes, he’d have missed it.
‘i really want to kiss you,’ you say, so brazenly that eddie’s not quite sure if he’s heard you correctly, almost sputtering on his breath as the words process.
‘you.. you wanna kiss me?’ trying hard not to sound so astounded. pretty girls didn’t want to kiss eddie, not like this.
you nod, ‘can i?’
there are stars in his eyes, blood pumping around his limbs at an alarming rate. his head is fuzzy and if he weren’t sitting, he’d probably have fainted.
‘please,’ he chokes, desperately forcing the word out before it becomes impossible.
your palms are soft as they caress his cheek, wishing that he’d shaved before this had unfolded. his heartbeat stutters, bubbling with anticipation as you lean in, gentle lips locking onto his as his eyes flutter shut.
this is it. he’d dreamt of kissing you for weeks, practiced on his hand an embarrassing amount of times and yet still nothing could’ve prepared him for how earth shattering this felt. his heart is practically jumping out of his chest and he’s sure you can feel it thumping against yours.
it’s as if fate had bought the two of you together, moving against each other in perfect harmony. if he died tomorrow, he’d die a happy man.
your hand creeps down onto his chest, holding yourself upright as you shift onto your knees. do you want to have sex with him? is this actually happening? his fingertips vibrate as they connect with your waist, like you weren’t even real and just a figment of his overactive imagination.
the second your lips part from his, he wants to cry, pull you back in and never let go. the absence of contact makes him whine, opening his eyes to see yours gazing back, they look different. different to how you’ve ever looked at him before, full of something unspeakable.
‘do you want to?’ you ask quietly into the minimal space between you.
eddie wants to so bad, more than he’s ever wanted anything in his life. nodding hurriedly to let you know just how eager he is. there’s not a chance in hell he’d let this opportunity slip through his fingers.
your lips twitch into a smile at his permission, fingers curling around the hem of his shirt.
but before you get any further, the trailer door clicks open and wayne is stood in the doorway, pizza box in hand accompanying his unimpressed scowl. ‘okay well, i think that’s enough of that,’ he grumbles, shuffling into the trailer as you climb off eddie’s lap, back into your own spot.
‘sorry wayne.. i didn’t know you were back so early,’ his cheeks burning, bashful as ever. it wasn’t enough for wayne to walk in on that but he was always now straining against his jeans, trying desperately to hide the tent while you reshuffle, pulling your shorts back down to a more appropriate length.
‘yeah yeah whatever,’ his uncle shakes his head, trundling over to the couch and tossing the box onto the cluttered coffee table, ‘move over boy, i wanna watch my programme,’ collapsing into the empty seat beside his nephew with a deep, guttural sigh.
the two of you share a sly smirk, tuning in to whatever shit wayne had put on without saying another word. stifling your laughter with a piece of pizza as eddie tries and fails to discretely pull a pillow onto his lap.
it’s hours later when you both crawl into bed and eddie has checked five times that wayne’s actually asleep before he gets to kiss you again.
bundled up under the covers when you pull him on top of you, your face gloriously basked in the bright moonlight shining in. it’s breathtaking.
‘you want to?’ you ask again, as if his answer had changed in those few hours.
he nods, his curls brushing fall down and brush against your cheek, ‘have you.. before?’ you ask cautiously. he’s not offended, even if he should be.
he has had sex before. only twice. when ellen had first joined hellfire, they had sorta had a year long fling which had ended after they had sex and ellen realised that maybe she didn’t actually like men. that was a super boost to his confidence. and then at senior prom when tina took great pity on him and somehow they ended up having sex in the back of his van.
he nods anyway, granted he’s not the most experienced but he’ll sure as hell try.
‘good,’ you smile, warm thighs wrapping around his torso as you reconnect your lips. it’s soft, gentle even. world’s apart from his previous encounters. this felt real, like you weren’t just kissing because you had to but because you wanted to.
it’s too cold in the trailer to care about removing your clothes, though he’s sure that’ll change in a minute. focussing on getting his tongue inside of your mouth, rutting against your pajama shorts. the friction causing his already semi-hard dick to rise, unable to contain the moan from escaping.
a smirk flashes across his face as his hand drags your shorts down your legs, savouring every moment of being able to touch your bare, supple skin. his hand makes its way back up your legs, repositioning the one he could grasp back around his lower back.
he has trouble getting his boxers down, too excited to focus on being smooth about it. appreciating the feel of your hand tugging the fabric down. you’re barely kissing at this point, your lips connecting with the corner of his mouth, all messy as the anticipation takes over.
‘you sure?’ he asks, gazing down at you with hooded eyes. he could just about remember what to do. sending a quick prayer upstairs to not let him be utterly useless.
‘i’m sure,’ you breathe, the feel of your fingers tangled into the hair that covered the back of his neck.
‘okay..’ he nods, mostly to himself as he wraps a head around his cock, positioning himself at your entrance. taking a brief moment to just capture this moment in preparation of it never happening again.
the pleasure overcomes his body as he slides in, already almost losing himself as he fills you up. a soft moan escapes your lips, gripping onto his neck. he is acutely aware that his uncle is asleep on the other side of the old trailer so he muffles his face into your neck, lips connecting with your jaw bone, kissing any and every bit of skin exposed to him.
sex had never felt like this before. at best, it had felt slightly better than when he jerked off, but this was something else. eddie knows it’s cliche and is definitely only because you feel so fucking good around him, but it’s as if you were made for each other.
hands pressed into the pillow so hard that he wouldn’t be surprised if there were a permanent dent either side of your head. using everything within himself not to start hollering, eyes fluttering shut against your neck. he moves in and out at an agonisingly slow pace. the small room filling with the sounds of your soaking wet cunt. its undeniable to anyone with ears and he just hopes to god that wayne is still asleep.
his own low groans vibrating against your cheek, mouth hanging open as his thrusts grow faster. you’re panting softly directly into his ear, spurring him on. despite the feel of your perfect cunt around him, the best feeling is knowing that he’s making you feel good.
‘h-holy shit,’ he mumbles nonsensically into the crook of your neck, not allowing himself to come for air because he know that the second he looks at your face, he’ll cum.
your one hand is splayed out on his upper back, the other holding onto his sweaty neck beneath his mop of hair. whining his name into his ear, driving him into a frenzy with the sound of your breathy voice, desire rippling through your moans. he should tell you to be quiet but that’d be cruel and he’d rather take the shame of wayne knowing than not hearing you.
your legs shift higher the position allowing him to reach the golden spot, nudging the soft, spongy spot over and over. eddie figures you’re far more experienced than he is. with no offence meant to you but you obviously know what works. this is new territory for him, a closeness that he’d never known possible.
you’re engulfing him completely, every single one of his senses encompassed by you. you’re all he can see even with his eyes screwed shut, all he can hear, taste and smell. god knows you’re all he can feel, calves squeezing around his back and your perfect pussy tightening around him.
he groans, feeling his stomach begin to twist in that all too familiar feeling. orgasms had never felt so good, it’s like everything was dialled up to level ten. ‘i’m gonna.. shit- i’m gonna come,’ he babbles far too loudly.
every noise tumbling out of your mouth was pulling him closer, no record could ever come close to the sweet mewls that were slipping between your lips. his arms begin to tremble under his own weight. feeling your legs quivering around his waist as your orgasm begins to overtake your body, sinful noises echoing around the otherwise quiet trailer.
‘ohh fuck,’ he growls, feeling your walls clenching around him, it was like he’d been pushed over the edge. the only way he can begin to describe it was otherworldly, flashes of white light illuminate his eyelids.
images of your face accompany your honeyed whimpers and he has to pull out before he explodes. spurts of his release cover his hand and admittedly the back of your thigh. if he had any semblance of control, he’d have been embarrassed but he’s not exactly sure that he’s still on planet earth.
he dares to open his eyes, watching as your chest heaves below him clinging onto his forearm with desperate fingertips. you’re looking up at him as if he’s the only person you’d ever seen. mouth slack as you regain your breath.
‘jesus christ,’ he whispers, hand resting on your angled knee as he floats back down to your planet.
eddie clambers off of the bed with a grunt, wiping a hand over his sweaty face. reaching down to grab his previously discarded towel. it wasn’t the epitome of romance but he darent to leave his room, petrified that wayne had just heard that entire encounter.
he’s a gentleman, of course, running the towel over your thigh to clean his mess. offering you a tiny shrug as if to say sorry. rather suddenly he feels rather conscious of himself, refusing to look at you as his cheeks flame.
it’s ridiculous. he’d just been buried between your legs and yet now couldn’t even look you in the fucking eyes.
before he gets up again, your hand reaches out, curling around his t-shirt. ‘stop,’ using his shirt as leverage for you to sit up.
in one quick movement, you’re placing a tiny onto his lips. a reassurance he really shouldn’t have needed but he appreciates nonetheless.
‘don’t do that,’ you hush, millimetres from his face, the shadow of his broken blinds shine upon your cheek. it hurts him to know that someone would dare look at you and want to hurt you.
if it were possible, he’d take all of your pain and carry it with him instead.
‘okay..’ he nods, resisting the urge to apologise once again.
you giggle and it sounds like the heavens have opened, pulling his body on top of yours as his bed makes an almighty squeak. if wayne wasn’t already awake, he certainly would be now.
-
eddie doesn’t know where the fuck you are.
you hadn’t come back to the trailer after work last night and now you’re nowhere to be found. you were supposed to start half an hour ago but hadn’t turned up and now his heart is pounding, mind racing at the horrific possibilities of what could’ve happened.
at first, he’d thought maybe he said something wrong? he’d just thrown out the suggestion of going to get the rest of your things and moving them in here while you got back on your feet. he hadn’t meant to push you out, god no, that was the last thing he wanted.
maybe stupidly he had presumed you wanted your own space. whatever the hell was going on between you two was so fresh, he didn’t want to even chance fucking it up.
the guilt wracks his brain, tempted to drop everything to drive around this tiny town looking for you. he’s so stupid. should’ve just kept his mouth shut and enjoyed it while you were there.
he’s just about to tell james that he’s leaving when the door to the bar opens and a rough looking man comes through with you held tightly underneath his arm. your eyes avoiding his direction, staring at the floor as the mystery man ushers you towards the back, making himself comfortable at the bar.
eddie’s heart shatters into a million pieces, watching open mouthed as you disappear into the back.
judging by the look on james’ face, he recognises him, reluctantly pouring his beer as they engage in useless small talk.
‘thought i’d better sit in for her shift.. wouldn’t want her running off again,’ the man announces, beady eyes glaring right into his soul.
eddie knows who he is. he’d never seen him before but he could tell. they all had that sinister aura about them, like they could flip at any given moment. his dad was the same, walking on egg shells around him just in case he said the wrong thing or looked at him the wrong way.
you emerge from the staff room, still vehemently avoiding eye contact, a shell of the you he saw just yesterday. ‘hey.. you okay?’ eddie asks, but it falls flat as you walk off without so much as a look back towards him.
he can’t believe it, how you could be so different so quickly. as if the past few weeks you’d spent together had meant nothing. he can’t blame you. not really. it’s a cycle and he knows better than anyone that it takes a thousand attempts to actually break out of it.
his shoulders slump as he rushes out the back, refusing to look at that assholes face any longer. willing himself to get a grip and not jump over that bar to strangle the piece of shit right now.
a hand clamps down on his shoulder and for a brief moment he thinks he might be you until james clears his throat, shuffling on his feet behind him, ‘you can’t save her man,’ squeezing his shoulder firmly, ‘you think we haven’t tried?’
eddie sniffs, shrugging him off. he didn’t appreciate the patronising tone in which james was speaking to him.
because god knows, if he couldn’t save his mom, there’s no fucking chance he’s not saving you.
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wineauntie · 4 months
Text
TWO GHOSTS — LUKE HUGHES X CHILDHOOD BESTFRIEND!READER
Ceilings Part Two, part one here
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summary: Luke Hughes was your childhood best-friend and boyfriend until one mistake sent it all crumbling.
note: ellen hughes is my lord and saviour 🙏
warnings: fem!reader, use of y/n, reader has not-so-great parents, panic attacks, swearing, nicknames such as: pretty girl and baby, questionable moments on both of your behalf, boys being jerks. Use of names Brock and Julia (if they’re your name change it!). The name Brock being slandered.
word count; 3k+
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What people don't tell you about being cheated on is that the world around you seems to fracture into a reality in which everything appears false. What's usually right feels wrong, things that taste good now taste bad, songs that once breathed life now hung with the remnants of ghostly memories.
You had fallen into a state of loneliness. Your parents still refused to come home unless they had to. You hadn't seen them in days, you presumed they'd both decided to stay at separate hotels instead of risking having to sleep beside each other.
And Luke... you hadn't spoken to him in a week.
You hadn't called or texted him nor had he done the same. Why would he? It was all just a game for him. He'd used you and when he was done, he tossed you away like a broken toy he was bored by.
Yes, you had other friends, but the only person you wanted to help you stitch yourself together was the very person who'd been the one to rip you apart.
Since Julia had driven you home the night of the party, she'd been texting you daily to ensure you were okay and offering her shoulder to cry on. You appreciated the texts but you usually left blunt responses, too drained to give anything else.
You didn't even think you're heart was broken from Luke cheating, that was a small piece of rubble from the major wall. What hurt the most was how willing he was to tear down your years of friendship, to the point where thinking about going across the road, a simple feat, was now unthinkable.
And so the loneliness grew and you seemed to become one of the many ghosts haunting your house.
You felt pathetic as the situation warped your every way of life. You'd let him weave you in his web and he left you to rot there.
Your loneliness was eating away at you slowly but steadily. You found yourself less inclined to get out of bed each morning, less likely to eat breakfast or lunch, less likely to leave the house, go shopping, go to school– it all seemed impossible. Everything had built up in your life and one askew brick had sent the foundation crumbling.
It was exactly seven days into your stupor when a fierce knocking caused you to shift in your spot from the couch. You'd had a nightmare last night, and you'd woken up and vomited all over your bed, yet instead of cleaning it, you simply left your bedroom and moved yourself to the living room.
It's not like anyone but you would care about it.
Your head didn't even move to look as the knocks on the front door persisted. Nor did it swivel when a clunking of keys jingled before the door was unlocked and pushed open cautiously.
"Y/N?"
Your eyes welled with tears as the kind voice echoes through the empty halls. A sudden sinking feeling brewed in your stomach, as you curled further into yourself, your knees to your chest as a singular pair of footsteps traipsed across the house.
"Y/N? Are you here, sweetheart?"
You let out a small whimper, so small that it escaped you before you could even think to hold it back. The footsteps paused before they hurried in your direction. You bowed your head between your legs, tears streaming down your sunken cheeks. You felt the person crouch before you, their hand running over your hair comfortingly.
"Oh, darling,"
Ellen Hughes' soft voice caused you to crack completely as your body was wracked with silent sobs. She sat on the couch to your left, pulling you into her side as she tried to soothe your cries. You knew you probably smelled awful and that your clothes were days old but you couldn't find yourself caring as you leaned into the only comfort that had been offered to you since Luke had cheated on you.
Ellen didn't seem to mind, or if she did, she didn't mention it. She stroked a steady hand over your tangled hair and gently shushed as she allowed you to curl into her. You see, Ellen had always wanted a daughter...that's not to say she doesn't love her sons, hell, they were the greatest gift she had ever been given. But when she was younger she always imagined caring for a girl, teaching her hockey, taking her shopping for clothes, and being able to have someone else know what it's like to be a girl.
You were the closest thing she had to a daughter and right now, she was more than willing to mother you all you needed.
-
"Y/N, sweetheart...what's going on?"
Ellen sat down opposite you at the kitchen table, placing a glass of water and two slices of toast in front of you. Your downtrodden figure was wrapped in a blanket, still frazzled from crying. You felt your hands shake as they picked up the glass and raised it to your lips so you could sip.
"'m sorry," you croaked through a sniffle, "'m really sorry." Ellen's eyebrows furrowed, and for a moment she looked exactly like Luke. The sight made you lower your gaze as you focused on the food in front of you.
"You've got nothing to apologise for," Ellen stated softly. She leaned forward, her hands encasing one of yours as she tried to meet your gaze. "I need you to know that you can talk to me. You're not okay, sweetheart, and that's perfectly okay sometimes, but we can't let you continue like this."
Tears pricked your eyes once again as you sniffled, your hoodie sleeves wiping away stray drops. You took in an unsteady breath, your face crumbling as you met Ellen's warm eyes.
"Luke and I have been dating," you confessed, your timid eyes scanning hers for any resentment. "For roughly three weeks, we dated and we were exclusive– I thought we were exclusive, I mean usually that's what boyfriend-girlfriend means."
"And I really liked him, Ellen, really, really liked him...and he told me he really liked me too." You continued, a steady, continuous stream of salty tears running down your face. "Only for another week to pass and I found him kissing someone else and now everything is all messed up!"
"Not to mention the fact I don't know where my mom or dad are, and they haven't texted me and Ellen, I'm so lonely...so goddamn lonely. It's like I'm stuck in some never-ending labyrinth, where everything is some deceitful decoy out to get me and I can't breathe and I can't do anything I'm just stuck."
Your chest tightened significantly as you finished, the world around you narrowing. You could see Ellen's lips were moving but you could barely hear her, it was as if she was whispering in a hurricane– her voice lost to the wind.
"Breathe, y/n..." Ellen urged, standing up to round the table and rub your back. "You're having a panic attack, you need to breathe. Follow me...in...out...in...out."
You sucked in lungfuls of useless air, struggling to maintain it in your lungs. You gripped Ellen's hand as you tried to focus on her rising and falling chest.
"Breathe in, and through," she instructed, raising her free hand up and down slowly as your chest carefully slowed until the foggy haze around your head slightly lifted. "Good...very good."
She waited patiently until you'd fully returned to somewhat normality before she gave you the glass of water once again for you to drink from it. You took a few sips of water, the cool liquid soothing your dry throat. Ellen's calming presence helped anchor you in the moment.
“I'm so sorry, sweetheart," Ellen spoke with genuine concern, her hand still comforting your back. "It must be incredibly tough for you right now, but you're not alone. We'll figure this out together, okay? I'm here for you, sweetheart," Ellen reassured, her voice a comforting lull.
With those words, a glimmer of hope flickered in your eyes. And you could feel Ellen's genuine concern and support began to slowly mend the fractures within you, piece by piece. You nodded, grateful for the warmth and understanding Ellen offered.
As you sipped the water, Ellen continued, "First things first, I'll sort out your parents. It's not right for them to leave you like this, no matter how bad things are between them, they should never let that interfere with your well-being. And as for Luke, well, we'll deal with him too. I raised him better. No one should treat you that way."
As the morning unfolded, Ellen helped you navigate through the tangled mess of emotions and uncertainties. She'd gotten you to eat before she sent you off to shower and change whilst she stripped your bed and opened all the windows to air out the stagnant air.
Ellen became your anchor, guiding you through the storm. The loneliness slowly receded throughout the day as you continued to open up to her about everything that had happened from your parents to dating Brock and to the entirety of you and Luke's relationship, letting the walls around your heart crumble in the safety of her warmth.
You could feel strength returning as she stayed with you the entire day, not leaving your side for too long, not even when she left multiple scathing messages to both of your parents. She'd forced you outside the back onto the rickety bench to get some air, whilst the two of you continued to talk and every little thought you had, you'd tell her.
She may not have been your mother by blood, but you'd be damned if you denied that you hadn't wished she was.
- "Back porch in 5."
Your trembling hands could barely keep your phone straight as you reread the message for the thousandth time. Ellen had left your house half an hour ago after cooking you dinner, ensuring that you ate it all. She instructed you to text her when you were going to bed and when or if your parents came home. If by the morning they weren't, Ellen welcomed you into the Hughes home for however long you needed.
You found your legs shaking as you grabbed a cardigan from the stair's bannister and shrugged it on, letting the comfort engulf you as you made your way towards the back door.
The chilly night air greeted you as you stepped onto the back porch. The weak glow of a single porch light illuminated the worn wooden planks beneath your feet. You wrapped the cardigan tighter around yourself, seeking solace in its familiar warmth.
As you approached, you saw Luke standing to the side of the porch, his hands shoved into his pockets. His face was painted with nerves, uncertainty etched across his face. The moonlight cast shadows on his features, almost emphasising the gravity of the situation. You shuddered at the sight, it was almost as if he was a ghost standing still as time continued. His head snapped towards you as you settled on the wooden steps of the porch, your knees drawn up to your chest.
"Hey," He spoke tentatively, his eyes searching yours for any sign of emotion as he stepped closer.
You remained silent, your eyes watching him as he moved to sit beside you. You were waiting for him to explain himself and the world felt suspended, time frozen as you said nothing, facing the person who had shattered your trust.
"I guess we should talk..." Luke finally spoke, scratching his head awkwardly. At his words, you found yourself tearfully scoffing.
"You guess?" you asked in disbelief, your voice steady but laced with pain. Your eyes remained ahead of you as you tried to keep a straight face. "Why did you do it, Luke? We were supposed to be more than this."
"Why did I do what?" Luke huffed, anger weaving into his tone. "I came over for you to explain why you did what you did at the party."
"What I did?!" You exclaimed, your hands fidgeting. "You mean having to watch you shove your tongue down a girl's throat in front of everyone while they laugh at me?"
"Why should that matter?" Luke rolled his eyes, "it's not like you did anything different."
"I don't know what you're talking about," your voice cracked, taken aback by his cruelty.
"Don't act clueless,"
"I don't know what you're talking about,"
Luke's sharp gaze scanned yours for any sign of a lie. His face slowly dropped, his eyebrows scrunching as your teary eyes remained locked on his.
"I saw you and Brock in the kitchen," Luke breathed out, "you kissed him!"
"Kissed him?" You choked on a tearful laugh, "I did not!"
"Then how do you explain what I saw, huh?" Luke spat at your laughter, his hurt plastering across his face. "I saw you..."
"You saw him grab me, and pull me towards him?" You asked rhetorically, "You saw me close to him? Wake up, Luke...Brock grabbed me, he pulled me, he yanked me closer, see the common denominator here?"
"That doesn't explain the kiss," Luke mumbled, his hands running over his eyes in frustration and exhaustion.
"There was no kiss!" You burst as stray tears flooded through the dams. "He was taunting me, Luke! He was being a dick insinuating that I was a whore filled with diseases!" Luke was ashen when he raised his head. You felt yourself deflating, growing smaller in yourself by the second.
"I didn't kiss him...I didn't," your voice broke off as you looked away from the boy you still loved despite everything. "I would never do that to you."
"But you... And they said..." Luke's nose scrunched up a confusion, which seemed to be interwoven with despair."...and I saw you!"
Your body shook, and this time it wasn't from nerves, but from the sound Luke made when he turned to face you again. It was almost an animalistic send one so inhuman, you thought there may have been some little creature out beyond your back garden, whimpering.
"...but I swear, they told me...they told me they saw you and him... And then I went, I went and I checked and then I saw..." Luke paused his rambling, barely taking a breath. "You didn't kiss him?"
Luke's voice trembled as if his world was collapsing around him, every lie he had convinced himself of, every brick in the foundation had come tumbling down on him leaving him in the ruined rubble.
"I thought you knew," Your voice came out as a breath, "I thought you knew I would never do something like that to you."
"...I thought you had. I saw you and him in the kitchen and you were so close. I thought you were kissing and all I could see was red. All I could see was a hazy fog and I... I didn't know what to do."
"So your best idea—your best idea was to go and kiss someone else?!" Your voice now betrayed your brain as it stammered, letting the hot tears streak down your face. "Instead of coming to talk to me, and instead of asking me, instead of coming over...you kissed someone else? You jumped to conclusions, and that is not on me..."
Luke's eyes, the eyes which you loved, were welled with unshed tears. You see, he knew what he did was wrong, but Luke?
Luke had a tendency to lash out, a tendency to jump before he even knew it was safe. He was known to leap from one place to another without any guarantee of a landing space.
And you knew that about Luke. You knew that a part of him was hurting so much and that the reason he kissed someone else was a twisted way to get back at you for hurting him all while protecting himself.
"Why didn't you just come over?" You whispered your heart dropped to your stomach. And the churning feeling of anxiety has long settled in your gut. "I thought we had the trust in one another to communicate, to be open to each other."
Luke sighed, a mix of guilt and shame crossing his features. "I don't have a good reason, Y/N. I got caught up in the moment, and I let everything unravel. I was stupid, and I hurt you, and I hate myself for it."
The raw honesty in his words pierced through the silence. You remained still, absorbing the weight of his confession. Ellen's guidance echoed in your mind, encouraging you to express your feelings.
"It's not just about the cheating, Luke," you spoke, your voice revealing the depth of your hurt. "It's about the trust you shattered, the friendship you trampled on. I never thought you'd be the one to hurt me like this."
Luke took a step closer, his eyes pleading for understanding. "I know I messed up, and I don't expect you to forgive me overnight. But I'm willing to do whatever it takes to make things right. I miss you, Y/N. I miss us."
Tears welled up in your eyes as conflicting emotions swirled within you. The loneliness, the betrayal, and the desire for connection warred in your heart. You glanced at the cardigan's sleeves, trying to muster the strength to say what needed to be said because looking at him in that moment it felt like you didn’t know him at all.
"Luke, I need time," you said, your voice firm but tinged with vulnerability. "This can't be fixed overnight, and I can't pretend everything is okay."
Luke nodded, understanding dawning in his eyes. "I get it. Just... don't shut me out completely. I'm here, whenever you're ready."
With those words, he turned and walked away, leaving you alone on the porch. The night air felt colder, but a sense of clarity embraced you. You allowed your head to lull backwards, the tears slipping from the corner of your eyes as you gazed at the stars overhead. You knew the journey ahead would be challenging, but with Ellen's support and your own resilience, you were determined to rebuild from the broken pieces.
Anywayssss, don’t hate me but this is getting a part three!
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